


Beautiful Consequences

by casstayinmyass



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Face Slapping, Femdom, Foreplay, Grinding, Marking, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mistress, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Pegging, Power Play, Restraints, Secret fantasy, Teasing, Verbal Humiliation, Vibrators, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Secondo is supposed to be your support after a hard day, but when he shows you nothing but attitude, you decide to finally turn the tables and put him in his place.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus II/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Beautiful Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Requested through that one site, Kopia-Fill. Inquire about yours on my tumblr, @kissthegoghuleh.

You and Papa usually spend today, the last day of the week together. Since both of you had been working from early morning until late afternoon, you would only get the evening and night with him, but that’s alright. You always made good use of your nights together.

The walk to Papa’s room has always been comforting to you. Other Siblings had described it as foreboding in appearance, frightening even. It certainly doesn’t give off welcoming vibes per say, with the black and green paint that seemed to shimmer in the dark. The corridor is lit with black candles that drip wax down the immaculate silver finish of the sconces they sit in, setting a haunting orange glow in the passage that led to his door. Your shadow gets to the door seconds after you, and you turn at the sight of it in the corner of your eye. A smile graces your features. Just tricks of the dark; you’re sure Secondo specifically detailed that his Papal passage was to be dimly lit for this reason alone.

Affection fills your heart as you think of your Papa’s dark inclinations, and suddenly can’t get to him soon enough. You’d had a long day, and the only thing keeping you sane is thinking of cuddling close to Secondo while he runs his fingers through your hair and whispers how he missed you. Maybe you’d even let him chain you up finally to release some of your stress, as he’d requested a while ago. It would be nice to relinquish a little control to the man you trust the most. Dressed in his favourite black mini dress with lingerie he bought you underneath, you feel every bit the witchy woman he’s falling in love with... the thought makes you feel powerful.

Unlocking the door with the spare key you had been given, you enter the Papal suite of the Second Emeritus. Expected to be greeted by Papa coming out of his washroom after his rigorous skincare routine following his paint removal for the day, you’re instead greeted by his two Dobermans, knocking you over as they usually do. They haven’t seen you since last week, so they’re extremely enthusiastic. Laughing and struggling to breathe under their litany of kisses and pounding paws, you surface from between the beasts.

“REX! BRUCE! Ai _sedersi_ , adesso!” Papa calls over, and the two dogs quickly back away, listening to their master. They sit and let you stand up. They remain there sitting together, side by side, looking at you with their pointy ears up. Rex’s tongue mlems out in a small gesture of love to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “They’re only saying hi. They haven’t seen me in a while. Matter of fact, neither have you.” You look over to find him in bed already, reading glasses on so he can enjoy the book “The Hellbound Heart” in his lap. “And... you look happy to see me,” you tease, noticing the slight tent in his covers. He grunts.

“It is only what I am reading. It stirs me, mildly.” You blink. _Okay then._ “—As for the dogs, they must learn some discipline. I have been lax with them, letting them jump all over you.”

“But I like it!”

“As their owner, I do not.” Secondo goes back to reading, and you raise your eyebrows his way. _Fuck. Who pissed in his ceremonial wine?_ You want to ask what the hell’s got him so twisted up, but you know that won’t go over well. Best to keep the peace, so you could salvage tonight.

“No worries, Papa.” Black candles burn around the bed, casting ghoulish shadows onto the ceiling. The faint smell of spicy incense surrounds Papa, mixed with the hint of his musky aftershave left over from the morning. A tapestry of demons hangs over his fireplace, and a painting of himself with his dogs hangs over his bed. He always tells you affectionately how he will one day have you painted into it, draped over his shoulder. Papa’s penetrating gaze is perfectly portrayed in the painting; his sunglasses are down to his nose in it, revealing his two-toned eyes. One leg is crossed in his immaculate black suit, white tie flattened perfectly against his chest. He’s without his robes, but his papal paint is crisp and demands the utmost respect. You get chills from it, then look down to observe your paintless Papa, harmless tucked up in his sheets. 

“Hey,” you smile.

“Hm,” is his response.

As you approach the bed, Secondo snaps his fingers sharply. The dogs trot over to check their food bowls one last time: one labelled “Rex Asmodeus Emeritus” and the other “Bruce Belial Emeritus.” When they realize no more food is coming as per usual after this time, they head off into the other room to keep to themselves for the night. You smile.

“I missed you so much today. I was so busy, I couldn’t wait to come here and snuggle into your arms.” Another grunt is his response. You slide onto the covers next to him, and take your shirt off slowly, lingering on each button. “I’ve been wanting this off all day too.” Papa glances your way to get an eyeful, then turns back to his book. You gently stroke your hand up his arm, teasing him. “Hey. You busy or something?”

“Is that not obvious?”

You finally explode. “What’s your problem tonight?” His eyes fly up to yours, his nostrils flaring.

“You would dare speak to your Papa in this w—”

“I would, and I did!” you bite back, and his mouth closes slowly. “You’re being an asshole!” His jaw sets, brows furrowing in a deep set frown.

“You’re dismissed, Sister.” You scoff at the audacity, blowing hair as fiery red as your mood out of your face.

“Dismissed?! You think you can just dismiss me like I’m one of your disposable Sisters, brought in here to satisfy you? I came to get over my bad day, but no. I’ve _disturbed_ your evening of reading. Would you rather I not spread my legs for you, then?!” Papa seems slightly taken by your display of rage. Intrigued, he puts his book down and waits. This only serves to infuriate you further. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

“I am far more interested in this display,” he replies coolly. “It is better than attending the theatre.” You feel your anger culminate to light something inside of you.

“You’d better drop the attitude.” He holds you stare. 

“What attitude would that be? That of a Papa, who knows his place above you?”

“Your place in here is below me,” you mutter. “I could step on you and you would thank me, isn’t that right Papa?” You’re already reaching under the bed where you know Papa keeps the restraints. “But as soon as you leave this room, you’re the bone daddy everyone thinks is so ruthless and cruel in the bedroom. They fantasize about you, about you pinning them down, tying them up, taking over their very souls with your touch... when all you really are is a dirty slut, who wants to get f—”

“ _Sister_ ,” Papa snaps, white eye gleaming. You pause, heart hammering. You know you’re on thin ice, but something in Papa’s glare makes you vindictive, like you want to push further. If he doesn’t like it, he knows what to do.

“Don’t worry, Papa,” you coo, “Your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone that your biggest fantasy is taking a cock so big you cry when it stretches your slutty little hole.” Papa hisses through his teeth, but none of his threats come through this time. Your lips curl up. “Would you like me to fuck you like that? Make you mine, Papa?” His jaw remains clenched, but he doesn’t protest as you drift off from tying him up to kneel at the foot of the bed—not much, anyway. He looks down at your handiwork, watches your nimble fingers slip open each button of his satin sleeping top until his shirt is open, bare chest exposed. You run your hand up along his warm skin, and Papa’s lips form a tight line.

“When I get these damned restraints off, I have half a mind to punish you for interrupting my reading.”

“Big talk, coming from a man tied to a bed,” you whisper. “You know, you haven’t said anything about my tits tonight. They’re usually the first thing you comment on.”

“Seeing as they are not bared to me, I have no praise to offer,” he seethes.

“Don’t get cute. That’s my job.” You can tell he’s less than satisfied with your admonishment—or at least, not used to it. It feels strange for you as well, telling him what to do. On normal nights like these, you wouldn’t dare order him around. He is your superior, in the bedroom and outside, and to challenge him is to court severe, sinful punishment. But it feels good this once, letting him have what you both know he needs.

You suppose it’s about time to tease him with something substantial. Just out of reach of Papa, you tease your hand up your stomach where it finally comes to rest underneath your breast. Papa watches, unable to tear his eyes off all his favourite parts as you reach your hand back to unhook the bra that covers what he craves the most. The black lace garment dangles over your nipples, shielding them from view as you bring your thumbs down to hook into your pants. Pulling them down slowly, you toss them to the floor and move on to your lace panties, panties that leave very little to the imagination. Papa had bought them for you for your birthday. Knowing of his love for scantily clad women, you would say that it was purely in self interest he had made the gesture, but it also made him happy to see you feeling your best in something sexy. Although there was nothing happy about him tonight—not yet anyway—he did seem to be enjoying the show. You slide the garments down just over your hips, and Papa’s fists clench in the bindings as his gaze stops on your most intimate parts. He wants to touch, but is too proud to ask. 

“You have the devil’s seduction in you,” he muses.

“Does it make you want me, Papa?” you coo. “You can say it. Just tell me you want me, and you’ll have me.” You brush the bra off of your tits, and show them to him by squeezing your arms in front of you. The exhale of air is audible; Papa’s hips nudge up of their own accord. You move just over top of him, dragging your breasts up his face. A deep groan rumbles from his throat, fingers coiling above you where his wrists are tied.

“Why do you tease me so?” he growls, chest heaving down as the air leaves him. You squeeze your breasts together over his face, stifling the groan that rips from his throat.

“I think you know the answer to that.” His glare through your cleavage is cutting.

“I could have my ghouls take you away. With one call—with one _snap_ , I could have you locked away in a dark room, leashed and chained to the wall, fed only out of my palm for a week.”

“How are you going to make that call, when you’re helpless like this?” you tease, rolling a curl of hair around your finger. “Mm. You should know by now I’m not your pet tonight,” you go on, shoving his chest down with a hand. “And you should know your place by now. I guess brats like you are stubborn until the end.” Papa’s jaw clenches even harder as he goes red from being called a brat. Each thing you throw his way ignites fear in the pit of your stomach, but he can’t do much tied up as you’re having fun pointing out, and the fear only makes you want to fuck him more. “The next time you address me, you’re going to call me...” A smile grows on your face as you think of the perfect title. “Signora.”

“Pah,” Secondo mutters, averting his eyes. You take his chin between your fingers roughly, forcing his face back to look into your eyes and shifting yourself over his bulge.

“Do I make myself clear?” He hisses through his teeth, and jerks his face away.

“Si.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. I didn’t hear you.”

“Si,” Papa seethes. “ _Signora_.” You get off the bed to walk over to his closet of toys; the second you leave him, he lets out a frustrated noise. You open the closet to reveal the impressive collection of anything you could ever imagine and more. The first time you saw this, you had been in awe. Jet black whips, crops, cuffs, toys, chains, and so many other tools of pleasure hung from carefully coordinated hooks. Some had been used on you before, others you had dreamed of using on him. Tonight, that fantasy would come true. Taking a harness and one of the vibrating dildos, you turn to find him watching your every move. Snatching a bottle of lube as well, you close the closet door and walk back over to the bed. His two-toned gaze settles on the phallus in your hand, and the sheer size of it. For a moment, lust takes over; this quickly fades into contempt.

“I always have the trouble sitting after those,” Papa grumbles. You buckle the harness around your waist slowly, making sure to tease your fingers over your skin as you brush dangerously close to your core.

“That’s funny. It’s almost like you know what it feels like to take such a big cock inside you. Weren’t you adamant you had never bottomed before?” He huffs, turning his head away.

“I said I do not serve others, I did not say I don’t enjoy something a little bit different at times.”

“You’ve said that pleasure is nothing without a little pain. Isn’t that right?”

“Hm,” is all he comes back with, as seems to be his favourite response tonight.

That’s fine. He won’t be bitter for long; not when you fuck the attitude out of him. You sigh, fitting the vibrating cock into the harness. Papa looks so nice in front of you like this, open to you. His chest bears the mark you’d left on him last week on his left pectoral, another hickey just below his collarbone. He seems to like love marks—you’d have to give him another one before the night is over.

“I only hope you’re going to be good. I don’t want to have to use all those other things on you to make you behave for me.” The dildo you had chosen is different than others you’d used before; it has a piece that rests inside of you to fill you up as well while you fuck him. You get on the bed, straddle Papa, and lean back as you slide the vibrating piece inside of you. You make sure he gets full view of it as each inch disappears inside of you as his cock would. Slick drools out around your fingers and smears your inner thighs, but you don’t linger to fuck yourself with the toy. As you take your fingers away, you hear Papa’s breath hitch.

“How are we going to keep these legs open, hm?” you ask, rubbing your hands up his shins. You move to rub past his knees, over his quivering thighs, and train your gaze on the kick of his erection, begging to be freed from the lounge pants that still confine it. You rub down and up his legs again, grip a little firmer this time. “I want to make sure you stay nice and open for me, Papa. You know I’ll need full access to this pretty hole of yours.”

“What will you do then, mm?” he mutters, steady voice betraying his heaving body. “Treat me how I treat you when you need a good fuck?”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” you coo, hand grazing up between his legs to touch his balls. You see some of the resolve melt from his expression, but still, his jaw remains clenched. “Pushing those smooth legs up, kissing between your legs while your cock throbs and finally pumping into you. But this isn’t about me.” Your tone is teasing, but your fingernails dig in around the base of his hardness. “How would you like me to suck your cock, Papa?” He scoffs.

“Do I have to beg for such a simple thing?”

“Tonight, you beg for everything.” When he fails to however, you remove your hands from the base of his cock, your fingernails grazing his balls as you let him go. Papa growls.

“You are so coy, eh? You think you have such power over your Papa, and you flaunt this.” You smile.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. It’s not often I get to see you like this. Tied up. Helpless. Completely at the mercy of a Sibling of Sin... you, the esteemed Papa and disciple of Lucifer.” You fit something over his head, and he realizes it’s a collar. “You need to be knocked down a few pegs, reminded that you’re not Satan Himself. Only his _servant_. You like serving, Papa? What if I pushed your head down between my legs right now? Or... forced you to finger me until your fingers gave out?” You giggle, and Papa sneers.

“You will not be so gleeful when I regain control, little one.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it. For now, you’re mine to take apart. And you will call me by my title.”

“Si. Signora.” He mutters it like a curse. As if his body is a puzzle box, you work on the first piece to open him up. You move your hand up to touch his nipples slowly, interchangeably. Papa’s hips once again roll up, his natural instinct to fuck into whatever he can. In this instance nothing awaits him, and it frustrates the older man more with each passing minute of your foreplay. His breath begins to hitch as you rub faster around his nipples. _So, they’re more sensitive than most._ He sees your grin, and his head falls back into the pillow. Being a dominant himself, he knows exactly what you’re about to do.

You pull open Papa’s shirt to reveal the swollen nubs. Leaning down, you take one in your mouth, and it’s as if all the air has been knocked out of the man beneath you. He moves to take your hair, but his wrists sting in their bindings instead. Looking up at him and securing eye contact, you drag your teeth across his nipple, and bite.

_“Cazzo, lasciami scopare!”_

Leaving his abused flesh alone, you turn the cock between your legs on to its lowest setting, and feel the vibrations start to pulse through your clit. “You like pain,” you whisper. “I can give you pain.” Letting the toy on the bed, you grind down in a rocking motion as you lean up and take one of the burning black candles from the dresser. His eyes glimmer as he watches the wax pool in the top, but he shows no sign of backing down. No, that would be uncharacteristic. He seems intrigued, as his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. How can someone so hard appear so relaxed? No matter. You can fix that.

Tipping the candle just enough, four drops of black wax stain his chest. Papa hisses, but his cock jerks again, pre-cum beading and leaking down the head. “You like that,” you breathe over his lips, and drip a line down his stomach.

“Ai,” he blurts, body shuddering. You watch the skin beneath the hot wax blossom pink, and have the urge suddenly to kiss it better. Leaning down, you brush his chest and abdomen clean, softly swirling your tongue around the burned areas. He grinds his cock up against your chest. Giving a small moan at the feeling of him so hard and ready for you, you clench around the toy inside you, and make a show of stroking up and down the phallus in front of you.

“Do we need another drop...? Or are you going to take my cock without mouthing off, Papa?” you ask, innocence laced in your voice like poison in wine.

“Si, Signora,” he growls, by necessity alone. “Give it to me.” He can’t cum from the pain and teasing alone; he needs something more to finish, and he knows it. Papa’s hips push up, before you push them back down. He’s still in his lounge pants with his cockhead only barely exposed having grown past his waistband, pants you’re about to relieve him of. Hooking long nails into his waistband like a succubus on a mission, you let them scratch down the bare skin of his thighs as you inch dangerously close between them. Once out of range of where he wants you, you pull them the rest of the way off and toss them to the floor. His eyes are dead set on you now, unwavering. He’s enthralled, waiting to see what your next move is. His thin moustache twitches. “Do you like what you see, tesoro?”

“It’s a pretty cock,” you murmur. “This one’s more impressive, though.” You pop the bottle of lube open, letting the cool liquid drip onto your hand to then slide down over the plastic of your plastic appendage. “It’ll be nice to finally feel how warm and tight you are inside Papa, just as you feel me.” Your smirk is wicked. “I bet you’re thinking of the last time you fucked me. How slow you slid up into my cunt. You took your time, before bottoming out and taking me like a slut.” You lean up to bite the ring hanging from his collar, tugging slightly before lathing your tongue down his strained neck. Below, you nudge the head of your cock against his thigh. “So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to take my time with you until you decide to say sorry.”

“For what?” he snaps.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Papa,” you whisper, tugging the collar up sharply. “You’re the sharpest man in the Ministry. You’ve got yourself all tied up for a reason, and you know it.” You grind down on the bed, riding the vibrator inside you as you probe your slick fingers around the base of Papa’s cock. It bobs, releasing a couple more drops of pre cum. “I’m so wet. If only you could feel it,” you groan. You’re surprised he hasn’t cum untouched yet, but you’re reminded of his unparalleled restraint. You raise an eyebrow, and he exhales steadily, obviously doing everything in his power to exercise this restraint. You lean up over again, biting the pink areas where the wax singed his skin. He grimaces with each, mouth falling open and arms flexing where they’re suspended above his head.

You move down to drag your tongue up and over the head of his cock, collecting the salty drops and making a show of coating your lips in it. Papa’s brow furrows deeper, and his legs squeeze around your shoulders. “Mm mm. We can’t have that,” you mutter, and snake your way from between his legs to standing again. Papa’s eyes descend over the curves of the body he knows so well as you saunter toward the closet again, and retrieve a spreader bar. You see Papa’s features drop as he realizes what it is.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he rasps. 

“Watch me.” Getting on top of the antipope again, you attach the spreader accordingly, and make sure he can’t move his legs. When you’ve got him secure, you return to your previous task—getting him so worked up he’ll be begging you to fuck him. You dip down to lick a stripe up his cock, catching some of the precum. When he groans, you go a little bit lower, swirling your tongue down to his balls to lick and suckle at the soft skin there. His hips shift, his groans raising in pitch as you finally trail your tongue down over his perineum, drawing circles there for a second as you press your finger against his hole. Papa lets out a shaky sigh, and his balls tighten where they’re pressed against your cheek. “Just from a single touch, huh?”

“Stronzetta, fucking prick tease,” Papa mutters, shoving his hips up.

“Ah ah,” you grin. “We can’t have you finishing before we even start.”

Mixing the lubricant on your silicone cock with the dripping slick from your pussy, you start to slowly work the same finger into him. Papa exhales and you pause, waiting to see how his body reacts. When he lifts his eyebrows just barely, you continue, sliding in and curving your fingers gently. He keeps his head against the pillow, knowing by now what would happen if he was to mouth off again.

“You think you’ve still got control?” you taunt him. “You can’t touch. You can only touch and wish you could fuck me while I take you apart. Come on,” you murmur. “Let me hear you. I wanna know how good it feels.” He jerks in his bindings again, and you add a second finger.

“Signora,” he whispers.

“Let me make you cum,” you hush him, and adding another generous amount of lube, replace your fingers with the toy. Sliding up to hold onto the headboard above his bound wrists, you sit comfortably in his lap, breasts red hair falling down to curtain you both as you fuck him slow. He’s trying hard not to let any noises out, but you can see the frustration evident in his face. “You know you want to beg,” you sigh, dragging your tits up his face and pressing them forward. “Beg for me to fuck you, Papa.”

“I want to touch,” he hisses. “I need to touch you.”

“Take it like a good boy, and I might let you.” You thrust your hips in a little harder, and Papa’s thighs shake. He wants to close them around you, but the spreader is preventing him from moving them at all. His face scrunches up in further frustration.

“You will be the death of me. You have bewitched me. How can I resist such a creature on top of me when I am forbidden to touch?”

“You know how to get what you want.” His Adam’s apple bobs, as he chokes out an affirmative. Nostrils flaring, you can tell he’s still resistant to relinquish his power. The frustration is building up; he’ll have to give in sooner or later. You fuck deeper and maintain your position dragging over his body, your stomach rubbing his cock against his hipbone with every movement. It gives a throb against his skin, which you feel through your contact. No matter how sinister his glare, you’re not about to touch it.

You give a particularly rough pound, and he hisses. “You like that?” you breathe, rocking your hips into a hurried pace. “You like that, Papa? Gonna cum all over your chest for your signora?” You lean down to ghost your lips over his, the hair of his thin mustache tickling your nose. “Does it feel like this with the other Sisters? They don't fuck you like I do. You know why? Cause you never ask them to, huh? You're too proud. I wanna hear you say it. I wanna hear you beg.”

“Ai, piccola strega—!”

“Tonight you’re the fucking pet.” You tug the collar up. “So beg for my cock like the slut that you are.” In a surge of strength, his restraints are snapped and his hands are free. In reflex, you land a slap on Papa’s face, and his mouth drops open. You’re just as surprised as he is, but you roll with the punches, backhanding him on the other side and grabbing his chin as you continue the rhythm of your thrusts. The slaps get harder, and when you see the imprints of your fingers on his cheekbones, your cunt clenches hard. Papa’s eyelids flutter from being used and abused like this, and the sweetest moan leaves his lip as a shudder runs through his body. Your powers of seduction have won out; you know you’ve got him.

Pounding hard, you collapse your body and throw everything into fucking him rough. Secondo’s deep grunts transform into high, breathy moans of desperation as his legs shake with the force of each thrust into him. “Please. Please, please, please, fuck,” he gasps. “Allow me to finish Signora, let me please your cock!” The submission in his deep voice tips you over the edge. You finally bottom out, pressing right against his sweet spot and sinking your teeth into his shoulder in a deep, painful bite. Papa’s cock jumps, and you watch as ropes of cum shoot up and over his abdomen and chest. A few drops land on his chin, and you lean down to lick them off before licking up into his mouth to capture his lips in a slow, messy kiss.

He’s not ready to let you go. Secondo’s fingers only tighten on your hips, and he grinds you down into his lap, sliding the vibrator so deep and so perfectly positioned against your g-spot that your gasps come out in stutters. “Papa,” you manage out, and he pulls you back in to lay over top of him, biting your bottom lip hard as your orgasm washes over you in waves. When you pull away, you realize you’ve got cum all over your body, smeared over your tits and stomach.

“A shower is in order, I think,” he pants, giving a small wince as you pull out of him. You’re breathless.

“Not until... you say you’re sorry.”

“I don’t think so.” You jerk your head up incredulously.

“I don’t deserve a sorry after you nearly threw me out?” He flashes you his best grin, stroking a thumb through the cum on your breast and slipping it into his mouth to taste.

“To be fair, I did throw you out. You insisted on staying.”

“Aren’t you glad I did?”

“I would say so. Though my backside will not agree in the morning.”

You pout, stroking over his head and twisting your finger under the collar you left on him one more time. “Come on, Papa. Just one little sorry for me.”

“Ah, no no no, my angel.” He presses a kiss to your finger. “That would be too easy.”


End file.
